Not tomorrow
by Kasimere
Summary: Prompt fic thing! Mostly Gil and Oz coping with the hard situations that have befallen them. Uuuh, probably some Uncle Oscar. Basically it's depressing and angsty and not yaoi(Yeah, what a cop out title too.) Rated T.. Because well, swearing and maybe blood? Who knows.
1. Prologue

Holy shit, not only am I writing more fanfiction. But I'm doing prompts! (Holy mother of God, stop the pressers, mate... seriously). Although I should be revising for Sixth form. The pull of Pandora Hearts is just too strong.

The prompts were made by a darling friend of mine.

'7 deadly prompts.

7 depressing prompts, intended for feels!

Basically, every single prompt inspired piece of work, has to be deathly depressing. Have fun n_n

Loneliness

Wrath

Gasping

Death

Acceptance

Undeniable

End'

Yeah, she's an ass hole.

So, as a forward- Yeah I'm writing a bloody forward! I warn you, they'll be blood and swearing.. and angst. Because I'm a depressing fucker.


	2. Loneliness

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I'm probably writing this because I wasn't hugged enough as a child or some shit. I don't know, I should stop being so depressing.

So, here we go. Prompt one or whatever, I don't know... I can smell dinner. Hohohoho.

Note: This actually took longer, cus, well, dinner happened and I spent around, 5 hours down with the family. Soooo.

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Loneliness

Within any disrupted equilibrium, one would naturally feel distraught with the situation. That of course is the regular human reaction to tragedy. But, the fallout all depends on how emotional the individual actually _is. _And in the case, the small boy who was now merely clinging to the verge of sanity- dangerously close the precipice was heavily emotional.

The very moment Gilbert awoke from the his comatose state, three agonisingly long days after his Master was raked into the darkest depths of a mythical hell that in fact, was all too real. He'd been struck with the thought of Oz. His eyes had opened blearily as he was far too groggy and shrouded with thick, nauseating sleep to display his urgency.

The maids had seen this, and immediately called for Uncle Oscar... who, would've most likely broke through the wall if the door was not open- due do his pace and utter emotion. He was stood over the small injured boy within minutes, Gil gazed up at him- his mind slowly clicking back into reality.

Why was he in so much pain?... Why did his chest hurt so much? And.. where- where was Oz?

Then it hit him, forcefully, an brutal, unsympathetic onslaught of harsh memory.

The sword, the..

_Him._

_That twisted, vile, excuse for a father. _

And, and the sword, he thought he was going to die in all honesty. But that didn't even matter because Oz.

Oz...

Oh, Oh God no. No. No...

Within an disjointed movement, Gilbert attempted to sit up... Only to double over in agony as Uncle Oscar tried to hold him. Mere seconds fleeted past like the pathetic flecks of time they'd inevitably become, before Gilbert began to sob. Of course, Oscar knew, _knew, _in that horrible rational area within his being that the small, tiny, pathetic child that now lay near on screaming in his arms... understood what had happened, in this small moment of realization, before the idea of denial had even been allowed to lay down its bare bones in the mindset of the small child.

He knew, he knew... that Oz was gone. The juxtaposition of the contrasting emotions and sensations were all but ignored, the red hot pain of the reopened wound that now caused Gilbert's blood to mercilessly drip from the gash- escalating into a steadier flow whenever he sobbed a little bit too hard.. compared to the icy bitter clutches of the ominous spirit of ill-mind, the screaming pitch of a banshees chirping taunt... wrenching into his minds eye. Clawing at his cracking mind.

He didn't care that he could indeed, feel the older man begin to jerk with far more subtle sobs.

He didn't care that he was slipping back into a collapsed state of blood and pale uncertainty.

He couldn't hear the maids shouts for the doctor.

None of that mattered.

He had no one to live for.

He didn't even protect the light of his own life.

Oz.

Oh, Oz.

Oz was gone, and loneliness was unforgiving.

From the moment the boy awoke it had been over him, like the very shadow of death.

For this loneliness, was probably a fate worse than death.

For he had failed.

Lost his life in place of an empty, lonesome existence.

With his Master.

His best friend.

Gilbert, no matter how many people were around him.

Was completely, and utterly.

Alone.

And that was more painful, then any stinging bite from a misplaced wound.

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Fucka-doodle-doo, that was intense.

Well, review.. or whatever you people do. I don't know... Imma' make a hot chocolate.

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	3. Wrath

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Here we are again, writing fanfiction instead of actually doing shit I'm supposed to do.

Why did I even agree to do this prompt shit man?...Incidentally, I need to go on a diet.

**Klarys- **_Thank you for the review dear, and nah, it wasn't awkward. My language is just awkward. :)_

(I'm actually listen to loud repulsive angst music for this, God help me. )

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Wrath

I gave up _everything_. All the light in my world was removed and I became a filth ridden, vile excuse for a human being. All of it! All the sacrifice! The betrayal and the irreversible stains of damning blood. My energy is drained by some cancerous chain that I locked my emotions away for! I near on forgot how to smile! How to be a fully functional normal human being. The last decade has been nothing but sacrifice.

And then you.

You stick that insidious death upon him and wrench him from the prison.

For what?! For him to be snatched away into its depths once again when you're fucking finished with him?!

I **hate **you.

With every corroded rotted fibre of my being. I hate you. And I know for a fact that I can make this all better.

You just need to die.

I've killed men, women, associates. What do you think even stops me from ending your miserable rotted excuse for an existence?

I gave up everything, to bring Oz back. _Safely. _And what do you do?! What do you. Fucking. Do? You bring him back to our world as if it's some twisted death row. As if he's here to change. And distance from me even now, even though he is here, all until he finally succumbs to your vile repercussions.

I've seen the edge of sanity, and I can easily fall so far down past that razor edge if it means your end.

You stupid.

Pathetic.

Worthless.

Evil.

Rabbit.

If it's this easy for me to kill a person.

It'll be a blink of an eye to end the life of a ignorant animal like you.

"Brother, you look so angry." Vincent slithered behind Gil, they'd returned after the incident in town with Phillipe's father. Gil had been staring at Alice before her and Oz left the room to change their damp clothes. Vincent, had noticed this. A twisted little smirk had spread across his pale face, the wine red of his eye sparking against the reflection of the fire. Oh, he didn't like it when he brother was troubled. That hurt him, angered him. He always wished to destroy what was making Gil upset. But this, this was a tickle. His brothers obvious hate towards that silly little, interesting, chain.

And it was easy to take the eyes of a rabbit, as easy as it was to take the eyes of a cat. To cut the stuffing and threads and watch the stuffed stupid creature fall to the floor. Like a downed bird in the snow.

Gil, didn't reply. Vincent just chuckled quietly. Placing his hands on Gil's shoulders... Whispering into the his beloved brother's ear.

"Why don't you hunt the rabbit, brother? Take it away, your master will be free."

Gil shifted and pulled away from Vincent's grasp, turning his head to gaze into the mismatched, deranged pools.

"I can't, I'll hurt Oz."

Vincent stood to full height, tilting his head with a small 'hm.' as Gilbert stared him down with a tired tempestuous stare of raging emotion.

The younger Nightray simply smiled after a pause, flicking some hair from his vision as Gilbert stood.

"Fine, fine. But I'd rather have a loved one hurt." He brushed past his brother with a casual shrug.

"Than dead, wouldn't you?" Vincent chirped turning to give his brother a seemingly carefree smile before leaving the room with a small wave.

"Goodbye, Gil~"

No, no matter how much wrath was in the broken servants soul.

He could never hurt Oz.

Whatever that meant.

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I wrote Vincent in, because Vincent is totally bamf. I want him. I don't care if he's just a bloody drawing.

I know this might not makes sense to the manga scenes or the anime, but it's fanfiction. I can tale liberties and shit. Ugh. I don't know.

Review or... uguuuh *Just leaves computer and drowns in alcohol*

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	4. Gasping

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So, I decided to read Godchild (again) in the bath... And I spent 20 minutes bawling like a bitch in the water. That was a bad move. Fucking Kaori Yuki and her power to decimate my feels.

**Manami Nightray- **_Every time I see a review from you, I imitate the Fonzie's 'aaaye' at the screen. Ughu ;~; You're so lovely._

**LovelyDemon- **_You really are a lovely demon *rim-shot, then actually shot* Thank you! Ughu! I want to coat your review in toffee and eat it! _

**Klarys- **_You'll always make sense to me, dear. *Strokes yo' face* And Thank you! Imma' just swim the channel to hug you! _

**Why did I agree to do this prompt shit, ugh. So much depressing music. **_And who the fuck is revving their car engine outside? Let's see your vehicle handles when I destroy it with a fucking bat, you annoying shit._

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Gasping.

The halls of the Nightray house were mercilessly dark, haunting and _freezing. _Gilbert didn't like this, at all, oh why did he agree to this?!

Oh yeah, the Young master. Of course, he'd brave this place for Oz. It was his second night as the house. And it was already seeming like some sort of hell. The other adopted lost souls seemed to take an automatic dislike for him, and his- 'brother'- scared him. The small demented child and tore apart soft, innocent images of childhood. Those large discoloured eyes that'd stare at Gilbert from the window seat. There were near on constant shivers down Gilbert's spine ever since he arrived.

This was scary, scarier than his wound- which was a red harsh gash that was far too horrible to even think about. He'd ignore the pain, for Oz, for himself. Scarier than cats, especially since he'd found the dismembered toy cat that was strewn across the bathroom floor.

He wanted to cry, but he couldn't because he needed to 'detach his emotions' for his master. But on this second night at the hellish house of Nightray. That was something he was not capable of doing.

Vincent had awoke with a slight start when he heard the bed creak and felt a hand hit onto his shoulder. He blinked, focusing his strange orbs in the darkness. Before slowly sitting and turning to face Gilbert. Oh, he was having a nightmare? Was he? Yes.. most definitely. He wondered, was the nightmare about their past? No, probably not. Hopefully not. Plus, his fragile older brother had other matters on his mind. His little 'master'. That blonde brat that'd been taken into the abyss. Hm. This incident had upset Gilbert, therefore, it enraged Vincent.

He watched the older boys movements, his expressions. Gilbert was led on his back, one hand clutching over his chest. With his other arm still on Vincent's side of the bed. He was, crying in his sleep it seemed. Small pathetic tears slid from under closed eyes and he whimpered and mumbled incoherently.

He then seemed to flail, quickly rolling over to the side- still facing Vincent. He curled up as both hands squeezed into him, and he sobbed, the mumbling gaining volume. Whatever he was dreaming seemed to be meeting a distressing climax.

But Vincent wouldn't wake him up. He didn't want to disturb this sleep, regardless of the dream, he knew his brother was tired.

Suddenly, Gil became still... Even to the point he seemed to not be breathing. Vincent tilted his head, automatic worry flooding his small features. Gilbert moved, still seemingly holding his breath. He pulled himself up. His weary eyes now open- the tears streaming freely. His glazing gold eyes stared disparately into nothing. He still held his breath.

Vincent edged over, putting a hand on the older boys shoulder.. the other on his chest.

"Brother? Gil?" He whispered. Golden eyes darted to the voice's direction. Gilbert slowly turned to face him. He stayed like that, fixated on Vincent. Before letting out a gasping hiccuped breath. Vincent frowned and went to embrace his brother- although, he expected him to pull away.

But instead, even before he had chance to touch Gilbert.. The older boy latched into Vincent himself, holding him close, tightly as if he never wanted to let for of the warmth from another person. He was gasping for breath, the tears choking him further.

He was hysterical and Vincent did his best to try and sooth him before anyone woke up. But this embrace made him smile. At least his brother didn't try to flinch away... It felt good.

Gilbert, began to slowly calm himself. And hiccuped between less audible gasps about 'Oz being eaten by a chain' and how no matter how much Gil tried to save his master. The young noble had been ripped apart. Vincent listened, but at the same time, ignored the words. Instead he focused on the strange gasping.

The rhythmic, yet disjointed pulse of life.

The gasping, signalling his brother was there.

His smile, basically shone from the dark. And Gilbert's tear soaked face... only became lost in the lack of light.

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This is shit, but it's 2am and I just wrote 3 fucking history essays.. SO mmmmmmeeeeeeeeeeeeehhh.


	5. Death

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**Manami Nightray- **_Oh dear, you and your reviews.. Ughu ;~; Thank you, my love._

**Klarys- **_Oh thank you dear! Ahaa, so so much. *Hugs you forever*_

**-Sobs into Vodka bottle-** Why am I of all fucking people writing angsty anime-based fanfiction!?

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Death

The shaky small hands on the trigger, trembling pale fingers curled around the harsh cold metal. This is where his sanity, gave in, and his new life begins.

But to end a life, one needs to embrace death.

And this particular death wasn't even his own.

This would be Gilbert's first kill, undoubtedly, it was an easy target. This irrefutably cowardly man stood snivelling in front of the mere child who was holding the weapon. Yes, Gilbert had a gun, but he was also a small, shaking boy. Yet his target was still afraid.

His target, was a killer himself, but that didn't matter to Gilbert. He didn't want to be a killer, not a murderer. Oz would hate him.

And if Oz hated him, he might as well turn this cold merciless deathly object on himself. But he had to remind himself that Oz.. wasn't here. And he was doing this. For Oz.

Gil, took in a deep breath, all his turbulent emotions began to slowly drip down his face in the form of tears. But he did not sob. He simply frowned and gritted his teeth. Breathing heavily through his clenched jaw he kept his eyes on the grovelling man. What if this man had...

A family?

Children...a-a wife?

.. A best friend.. Like Oz.

Oz.

No.

This. Had. To be done.

This man was an obstacle, in the way of obtaining Raven, in the way of saving Oz.

Gilbert applied pressure to the trigger as he fought back a jerking sob and seized in his throat. As his arms bounced back slightly due to the force of the gun he turned his head away, squeezing his eyes shut as the few remaining tears slid at a pace down his pale 'innocent' face.

_Thud._

Blood began to seep across the floor as Gilbert opened his eyes, his whole body's previous shaking had increased tenfold as he turned to face what he had done.

Oh God.

He was dead, that man was alive mere seconds ago... But.. now.. And Gil had done it. He let the gun fall from his hands as his legs gave way.

Golden, distraught eyes practically burned holes in the carpet as the blood slowly reached his hands after meandering within the groves of the carpet.

Gilbert may have screamed, but regardless. Death doesn't care for screams.

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Well, that was fucking depressing!

Review or... ugh... I don't know. Dance naked in the rain, do whatever the fuck you want. It's a free world.


	6. Acceptance

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Well, that was fucking depressing!

Review or... ugh... I don't know. Dance naked in the rain, do whatever the fuck you want. It's a free world.

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**Paz-**_ That's got to be the coolest screen name I've seen. Amg. But thanks for the review, m'darling. _

**Manami Nightray- **_I thank you, so much for reviews, you're in my predicted words. Dear God! _

So, this one... I don't know. It's gonna be a bit weird. Hohoho, I had cake for breakfast. Livin' the dream, my friends.

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Acceptance

It'd been an hour or so since Oz had returned from the abyss. They'd sealed the rabbits powers, which had in fact enraged Raven to the point his fist had been so clenched into it's self, his fingers could've snapped under the pressure. Not only was Raven useless in bringing his master back, his one and only Oz was under damnation from a chain.

When he'd returned, the Nightray assassin had ran over, ignorantly ignoring all dangers as he scooped Oz into his arms.

He was so small, so light and frail. When did this transformation even happen? He used to be big, strong! Something to look up to and admire. Every word from his strong voice would brighten the servants world. The healthy noble, not a weak, unconscious child covered in blood.

The carriage ride back was silent of Raven, even if Break and Sharon were talking, he couldn't hear them. He held Oz close to him, his long arms had wrapped around the tiny child as he held him to his own chest- Raven had his head leant ever so slightly into the blonde's hair, his golden sunken eyes closed tightly.

He was so afraid that if he let go, this frail body would vanish. And he'd be left alone again.

No. that was selfish. But... Oh god, no, he couldn't think right now.

Oz had been cleaned up and laid out on a sofa, there were no blankets, so Raven quickly removed his coat and draped it over the small frame before sitting at his side... but he couldn't bring himself to look at Oz.

Because it was scary.

Raven was scared. He was scared and he felt like crying.

Over this past decade, feelings such as this had left him. His new persona was cold and restrained.

He wasn't the same.

He wasn't Gil, the servant.

But now...

"Break? May I speak with you privately?" Sharon spoke up, from a previously useless conversation between the two. After of course, she caught a glimpse of Raven's expression. His fists were clenched and he seemed to be biting back some sort of harrowing facial contortion. And for these reasons, she took pity on him. Break followed her gaze and smiled, nodding towards her. "Of course, my lady~" He chirped, standing and following her from the room.

Raven looked up and around the empty room, letting out a prolonged sigh. As he ran a hand through his hair he clenched his eyes shut. No, he refused to shake, he willed his body to now stop shaking. He'd begun to realize when this transformation of Oz's occurred.

Never.

He slowly turned to face the boy. No, Oz hadn't changed an ounce. Raven had, that was the obvious fact, wasn't it? He'd always known that'd probably be the case but. It'd been ten years and the reality of the idea had never sank in.

Until now, ten years had drifted past, agonising trails of murder and soul shattering trails. Raven wasn't even really Gilbert at all now, was he?

A slow, small tear drifted down his cheek. Followed by another... and another. Now tears streaked both sides of his face as he stared down at the sleeping child.

At Oz.

He was staring down at Oz, he was older and stronger than Oz.

He wasn't Oz's servant any more.

He was just a murderer that longed to bring back the past.

He whipped away from the site of his master and buried his head in his hands, fingers gripping onto his hair as he tried not to jerk from the welling sobs inside his throat.

No, he couldn't cry.

He had to keep his persona.

He had to accept this.

He had to accept everything.

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HerpDerp.

I don't know, do whatever, like normal.


	7. Undeniable

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Hohum, here we are again. Another prompt another day, another time where I regret ever deciding to attempt fanfiction.

**Manami Nightray- **_Do I even need to thank you again? I don't wanna' drown you in praise. _

**LovelyDemon- **_Thank you for you lovely review again, darling. And it's okay! I don't expect a review each chapter anyway! Shit man, I didn't even expect any reviews from anyone._

**Paz-**_I hope you had fun in the rain! Thanks for the review, my sweet. _

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Undeniable

Oz sat on the balcony, sipping the tea provided by some butler who he didn't really care to even thank. Not out of ignorance, but, it was weird, Gilbert wasn't serving tea. Well, Gilbert wasn't here at all. And it was questionable to Oz whether his beloved friend was even alive or not.

Because of him.

Oh how his heart clenched painfully at that thought, the disgusting memory replaying in his head. He sighed, and closed his eyes trying to block out the horrible thoughts before he was interrupted by a distant roll of thunder. It was already a reasonably grey day and it seemed a storm was inevitable. Oz went inside, he didn't want to get caught in the rain.

The Reinsworth estate was pretty big, and full of kitchens- kitchens stocked with meat and chefs to cook it. So Alice was in her own personal heaven, stalking the cooks and ordering food near on constantly throughout the stormy day. Break and Sharon were permanently busy in their own tea party world to even acknowledge Oz was now bored _and_ bordering on depressed.

He set himself in one of the drawing rooms, he attempted rereading an old copy of Holy Knight... but his thoughts were elsewhere.

He remembered that usually, when it rained back at his mansion. He'd busy his day with Gil. They'd gone on adventures through the halls, he'd bully the younger lad until the poor little thing broke down into tears and Oz would have to spend around half and hour trying to cheer him up. Oh, rainy days used to be so much fun.

His thoughts where interrupted by the doors of the drawing room opening, it was Raven and he was soaking. He'd been out for most of the day and must've got caught in the storm on the way back. His gold eyes met Oz's confused green. Oz then smiled in a mocking fashion somewhat.

"Raven got caught in the rain, I see?"

"Sh- Be quiet." Raven grumbled as he took off his hat and placed it on a nearby stand- following by his coat.

Oz thought that was strange, Raven had used the phrase 'shut up' to everyone, but for some reason.. He'd..

Hm, whatever.

Raven took up residence on the sofa opposite to Oz, he sighed and leaned back. Still managing to stay tense.

Oz took time to look at Raven as the older man closed his eyes and 'relaxed' into the pile of cushions behind him. The man did look pretty tired, like, really tired... maybe even a little ill? Maybe it was the weather. He closed his book as he studied the man.

He really did remind Oz of Gil... His hair, eyes... everything. And at the same time, nothing. That fact was undeniable. No matter how much Oz wanted to shake the freaky, inescapable feeling he had around Raven.

"Raven looks a bit tired?" Oz finally questioned. Wanting to break the silence that was letting him think too much. Raven opened his eyes slowly, raising his head to gaze at Oz before closing them again and letting his head fall back.

"I had to deal with something, and it took up a lot of my energy to sort it out. I'll be fine soon enough..." He mumbled. Honestly, he seemed to be on the verge of sleep. Oz didn't actually want to bother the man with questions so he nodded and replied with a quick 'Oh'.

After some time, Raven's breathing changed... to a slow, steady, quiet pattern. Yeah, the guy had fallen asleep.

As Oz gazed over at the sleeping form opposite. He couldn't help but notice that when Raven slept. He looked so much like Gil.

That was undeniable.

And pretty scary.

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Not exactly depressing. But fuck it, it's hardly fucking happy. So go figure.

Ugh.

It's a Sunday.

I shouldn't even be awake on Sundays.

R&R if you want, I don't mind what you do.. It's your life and I'm not your dictator.

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	8. End

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So, this took a while, because well, I'm a student. I got A-levels to do. So.. ya'know..

Last prompt fellas. Ugh.

Thanks for all the reviews, I love all of you- so bad.

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End

So, after all of that time, all of that suffering. Gil had gotten Oz back.

But not really.

Oz had changed, and Gil for all intense and purposes had been side lined.

He'd sacrificed everything. And yet he wasn't angry at Oz.

Instead, his self loathing had simply grown stronger.

He'd stay by the boys side, until his last breath. Even if the young noble forgot he was even there.

In the shadows. As he was far too busy worshipping his false sun.

All good things come to an end.

And this good thing ended a decade ago.

This was when Gilbert learned truly what the word 'end' meant.

An unsalvageable nostalgic memory... that could never be restored.

No matter how much he offered the idea of sacrifice.

Nothing can be bought back from its on finale.

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Short, I know, but it's depressing and nonsensical. Ugh. Sorry dudes, I'm just... ughuuu.

**-Prattles on about disinteresting personal problems**-


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